


What's in a Name?

by paperwar



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: Asian Character, Chromatic Character, Chromatic Source, Friends With Benefits, Hand Job, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-06
Updated: 2010-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:11:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperwar/pseuds/paperwar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Tajima/Mihashi (MY DIRTY PLEASURE) Tajima teases all the sensitive spots on Mihashi's body to see which one will break his brain enough for him to call Tajima by his first name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's in a Name?

Mihashi had thought he was the last one in the locker room, had been counting on it.

There was just something about masturbating there after everyone else had gone. Their scents lingered, their sweat an almost visible haze. Sometimes Mihashi would spy a sock, a crumpled pair of underwear, abandoned in the corner.

That made it better.

He didn't often get to indulge; it was tricky to stall unobtrusively until everyone else left. Suyama and Sakaeguchi were the worst dawdlers, making awkward fumbly faces at each other until Mihashi wanted to cry with frustration.

They'd lingered for what felt like hours today, but finally, finally everyone was gone. The door barely clicked shut behind them before Mihashi got started.

A few blissful seconds later, the door flew open again and Tajima burst in. Too late to put his dick away -- Tajima's eyes went instantly to it. To Mihashi's horror, instead of drooping, it stiffened. Although when he thought about it, it would be worse if it had wilted.

"Ah! Mihashi! I forgot my bag, but you're busy, I see," Tajima laughed, edging closer. Mihashi, sitting on the bench, pants around his ankles, cock still in hand, scrambled back against the wall but had nowhere else to go.

"T-Tajima-kun, I... I..." Mihashi stuttered. He couldn't believe his bad luck. Tajima was never going to shut up about this and the whole team would know his secret. All he wanted was a leisurely wank after practice, and now he'd probably never get that again. More than ever he wanted to be alone, just him and his fingers sliding over himself.

Or maybe, after all, he didn't want to be alone, and maybe that was worse.

Boisterous laughter interrupted his thoughts. "Mihashi, you're so polite. Even when you're _fucking yourself_. What would it take to get you to just call me Tajima? Or even better, would you call me Yuuichirou?"

Mihashi blushed and shook his head, heart pounding.

"No? Really?" He sat down and put his hand on Mihashi's thigh. "I bet I can make you come so hard you forget to be polite." Mihashi's leg vibrated beneath his palm. Mihashi's hands were gripping the bench. Why did Tajima say that? He couldn't mean he was going to -- well, Mihashi didn't dare imagine to himself what Tajima might do, except even without putting it into words it was keeping him absolutely at attention.

Tajima let his hand wander upward. "You're going to say my name, Mihashi," he said, giving one of those ridiculous grins, the ones that announced to the world that he had no idea how outrageous he was being or that anyone might resist his thoughts at all.

Tajima took Mihashi's earlobe between his teeth, nibbling idly, as if he was just curious about what Mihashi tasted like. Mihashi's eyelids fluttered at the hot breath in his ear, and a hand not his own wrapping around his cock. "Say it," Tajima said, licking the curve of Mihashi's ear. Mihashi, panting, attempted to shake his head, but it turned out to be more of a tilting of his head to the side to give Tajima more room. Accepting the invitation, Tajima trailed downwards with his tongue, using the merest pressure of his teeth at the base of Mihashi's neck.

Mihashi's skin prickled, alight with nerves. He stretched his neck again, a graceful motion, wanting more. He couldn't help but quiver, once, upwards.

Tajima laughed and solidified his grip on Mihashi's dick. "Kiss me," he said.

Mihashi could only stare, heat flooding his face. Tajima's fingers moved, an inch, maybe two, on his cock, before pausing.

Mihashi licked his lips and broke eye contact, eyes fleeing for safer territory.

"Say my name. Say it or kiss me. Or both." Mihashi could hear the amusement in Tajima's voice. Not mean, never mean; that wasn't Tajima. Just persistent.

"Come on, Mihashi. It'll be so hot when you call my name as you come," Tajima said, thumb rubbing a small circle on Mihashi's cock. It was electric, dangerous. Mihashi felt unsteady; he was slowly unraveling. He knew from experience -- if only that of his own hand -- where this feeling led, but he never imagined he'd be going there with Tajima, of all people. Maybe he should've spent some time dreaming about it; then maybe his stomach wouldn't be leaping so much with fear right now. Fear, but also something else.

Mihashi drew in a shaky breath, then met Tajima's gaze for a heartbeat before letting his eyes slip half-closed. He leaned in, sensed Tajima drawing closer to match him. He brought his face the last inch and, trembling, put his lips over Tajima's. They were there, frozen, for a second or two, then, unable to hold back, he pressed his lips harder against Tajima. It felt awkward -- this couldn't be right -- but then Tajima slipped his tongue into Mihashi's mouth and oh, yes, _this_ was how you kissed, lips reaching and aching. Inhaling the other person's breath, and tongues swirling, and they were trying to swallow each other, like they had to be as close as they possibly could, inside each other.

Mihashi let out a groan with that thought. Somehow his arms were now wrapped around Tajima's neck, pulling the other boy nearer and nearer as they kissed.

Tajima's thoughts were clearly headed in the same direction as Mihashi's; he brought his other hand to Mihashi's hip, his fingers digging into the flesh, before sending it around, skin abrading skin, to Mihashi's ass. Tajima cupped the flesh in his palm. Mihashi shifted his weight, leaning into Tajima and allowing more access. Tajima took advantage, letting his fingers wander to Mihashi's crack. He traced the line of it, then one finger circled Mihashi's asshole, once, twice.

Mihashi jumped, letting out a small hiss, but in the next instant he pushed back, against Tajima's fingers, then forward into Tajima's fist, and back again. And again. And again. He'd had plenty of other hands on him in his fantasies, nameless, faceless hands. But the real thing was even better than he'd guessed. He whimpered.

"You like that, don't you? Will you say my name if I keep doing that?" Tajima put his forehead against Mihashi's. "Just once," he said. Mihashi twitched as Tajima let his finger roam.

"Say it." His lips were touching Mihashi's again, warm and soft. "Just once. _Ren_ ," he added, quirking his lips against Mihashi in a smile. Mihashi yanked his head back, blushing, dismayed and even more turned on at the same time.

"Tonight I'm going to masturbate thinking about you saying my name," Tajima purred. "Why don't you let me know what it sounds like?" He dragged his tongue over Mihashi's ear again. Everything felt bright and hot and urgent; Mihashi was standing on the edge, ready to fall. He clamped his hands on Tajima's shoulders and found himself saying, "Please."

Tajima's fist, now slick, slid ever faster over the sensitive skin of Mihashi's cock. He whispered things Mihashi could barely hear, but his voice -- alternately cajoling and imperious, threaded with fire -- set Mihashi's toes curling. Mihashi let his head drop against the wall and released the moans building in his chest. He was disintegrating. He was going to dissolve in pleasure, shake himself to pieces.

"Say it." There was a note of steel in Tajima's voice. "For me." Mihashi was bucking his hips so vigorously he nearly bounced off the bench.

"Say it, dammit," Tajima repeated. He bent his head down and bit fiercely at Mihashi's nipple through his shirt.

He was rewarded by a guttural sound, a flurry of thrusts. "Oh, fuck, fuck, yes, Yuuichirou, fuck, yes," Mihashi gasped as he exploded over Tajima's hand. He slumped against the wall, a dazed half-smile on his face. He looked up at Tajima, who was beaming, and all his usual self-consciousness snapped back into place.

"I'm -- I'm sorry, Tajima-kun," Mihashi said, "I shouldn't have..."

Tajima placed a sticky finger against his lips. "Don't apologize, Mihashi! I knew I could get you to do it." He licked his finger clean, Mihashi staring at his mouth the whole time, then grabbed a damp towel, forgotten on the floor, as he stood. He wiped his hand on it and tossed it at Mihashi.

"You can call me Yuuichirou any time," Tajima said, giving Mihashi a wink. "Next time I want to see how you like to do it, okay? Next time I'm just going to watch." He picked up his bag and slammed his way out the door, calling back a breezy good night.

Mihashi sat there for ten or fifteen minutes, post-orgasm haze warring with stunned embarrassment. He realized, when he felt himself hardening again, which sensation had won.

He allowed himself a small smile as he leaned back against the wall and took himself in hand. He was going to practice saying it.


End file.
